


All that We Are (The Greatest of Victories)

by oneoneandone



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:22:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27551473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneoneandone/pseuds/oneoneandone
Summary: It's hard, the let down. Kelley knows.She'll help Emily understand.
Relationships: Kelley O'Hara/Emily Sonnett
Kudos: 35





	All that We Are (The Greatest of Victories)

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt**   
>  _"Did you black out?" "I feel like I'm gonna puke." drunk Sonny_

The parade is over.

Their medals, their keys to the city, are buried somewhere under all of the things they've acquired over the past two days. Posters from fans, swag from sponsors, from want-to-be sponsors, flowers from the hotel—and then there are the clothes. World Champion t-shirts, still damp with sweat and champagne and beer, shorts and bras and socks thrown in random directions.

The parade, the ceremony, they're over at last. And now, at least for the next twenty-four hours, they can rest.

Kelley steps out of the bathroom, steam following her into the dim hotel room. "You decide to shower on your own?" she asks softly, adjusting the knot of the towel around her body. But there's no response, and she looks over to the bed closest to the window and smiles.

Emily'd managed to get mostly undressed, all but for a sock and a pair of black Under Armor briefs that Kelley knew had been lifted from her own suitcase. But that was as much as the blonde had managed before collapsing, face first, onto the clean white duvet of the queen-size bed.

The older woman chuckles to herself softly as she moves past the unused bed to the one where Emily is sleeping, taking a moment to pull her hair back into a quick bun before sitting gently on the mattress. "Hey," she gently rubs over Emily's shoulder, and then a little harder until she hears the familiar groan.

Emily makes a face as she slowly rolls to her side, and then buries her face against Kelley's thigh to hide from the late afternoon sun. "You okay, baby?" the brunette asks softly, gently scratching over the back of her girlfriend's neck, over the hidden tattoo there. "You never turn down shower fun." And she looks down at the younger woman, realizing in a flash what's wrong.

"Oh, honey, you drank way too much," Kelley whispers softly, thinking back over the past few days since they'd won the Cup. "Did you eat anything today—breakfast while I was out with Alex and Allie?" But Emily winces, and shakes her head, and then groans in pain while her girlfriend begins to rub her back soothingly.

The blonde nuzzles against her thigh. "I honestly don't even remember how we got back," Emily murmurs, the words slow, like she has to think over each syllable. And the sheepish tone of her voice, the way she can't—won't—quite look up at Kelley, suggests that she's more than a little embarrassed. The older woman feels her heart trip over itself in love as she looks down at Emily, half-naked and so, so vulnerable. The needy, wanting side of herself that she knows Emily hides from the world.

Kelley nods to herself, berating herself for not noticing how far gone her girlfriend was, for not keeping a closer eye on her. She, at least, has been through this before, the celebration and the crash. "Do you think maybe you blacked out?" she whispers, reaching for a bottle of water left over from earlier that day, fingers gently, gently brushing Emily's sweaty blonde hair. And the younger woman nods as she shifts onto her back, finally looking up at her girlfriend.

"It's been years," Emily rasps, "I haven't drunk enough to do that since college." And Kelley understands. "Here," she hands her girlfriend the half-empty bottle of water, "try to sit up a little and drink some of this?" As Emily tries to do what she's asked, Kelley rises from the bed and moves to pull the heavy, light-blocking curtains closed. "I'm going to order some food, something light and easy, and—"

But Emily doesn't give her the chance to finish her sentence. "I feel like I'm going to puke," she croaks, dropping the water bottle to the bed and looking around panicked as Kelley lunges for a nearby trashcan and gets it to her girlfriend just in time. "Hey, it's okay," the brunette whispers softly, holding Emily's hair back as the younger woman heaves. "Come on," she helps Emily up when she's sure it's over, slowly moving them both into the large bathroom with the hot tub overlooking the city.

"Thank you," Emily sits on the edge of the tub as Kelley starts the water for a bath, taking the fresh bottle of water her girlfriend had grabbed from the fridge on the way. And Kelley just looks up at her with a loving, gentle smile. "My hangover lasted a full week last time," she squeezes Emily's hand. "The first one—the first Cup—hits hard. Harder than you could even imagine. The alcohol, the excitement, all that adrenaline and tension from a month-long tournament. The coaches and the trainers and the therapists teach you how to deal with all the stuff that comes before, and the aftermath of a loss." Kelley brushes a kiss over Emily's brow. "The one thing they never teach you is how to handle the win."

Once she’s in the tub, Kelley kneels next to it, using one of the heavy tumblers left by the sink to gently pour warm water over the back of Emily’s head. The blonde takes another small sip of water, her fingers seeking out Kelley's free hand to grasp tightly as her eyelids droop under the pure pleasure of being taken care of so tenderly. "The second one is easier?" she whispers curiously, and grips the older woman’s hand tighter when Kelley nods. "You know what to expect, you know how to pace yourself, even if it doesn't look like you are,” the brunette tells her as she carefully begins to draw the soft washcloth over Emily’s skin. "And the come down is easier. You've done it once before, so the existential crisis is a little easier."

Emily quirks her head, but doesn't pursue that avenue. That's a conversation for another day. But she does lean into Kelley, breathing in the fresh scent of her. "What do you think happens after the third?" Emily whispers, her thumb tracing circles over Kelley's wrist. 

And Kelley smiles, leaning forward to rest her head against her girlfriend's, bringing their joined hands up to her lips, letting her mouth linger over the strong digits there.

"I don't know yet, but I wouldn't mind finding out."


End file.
